


Ampersand

by dogpoet



Series: Punctuation [9]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, Family, M/M, awkward dinner conversation, nontraditional families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:05:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogpoet/pseuds/dogpoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lewis takes Hathaway to Manchester to meet Lyn, but he discovers that adding someone new to the family isn’t easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ampersand

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by [Simoneallen](http://simoneallen.livejournal.com/profile) and [Luthien](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien/pseuds/Luthien). Also, thank you to [MisstressKat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat) and [From](http://archiveofourown.org/users/from) for their assistance.

Lewis woke with a start, his heart racing, unaware of what had brought him out of sleep. Not a dream, or if it had been a dream, he couldn’t remember it. Disorientated, he reached out for James, but his hand touched only cool sheet. He sat up.

“James?” His voice croaked with sleep. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. After a moment, he gave up and reached blindly for the lamp. When the light clicked on, he found himself alone. Even the corner at the foot of the bed was vacant, though a furry mouse on the duvet was evidence that Emmy had been there.

His phone informed him it was 4:23 a.m. Crikey. The flat was unusually quiet. At this hour, there wasn’t any noise from the street. No one was awake. Lewis rubbed at his face, then felt around in the bed for his boxers and t-shirt. When he found them, he got up unsteadily to put them on before he wandered out to the living room. 

The lamp in the corner cast a circle of light and, in it, James hunched over the ironing board, vengefully attacking the plackets of a shirt with the pointy end of the iron. At least he’d got dressed, Lewis noted. 

“What in bloody hell are you doing ironing at this hour?”

James looked up, pausing only briefly in his fight with the shirt. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Hot milk. That’s what you need.”

“Not much point in going back to sleep now, is there?”

“I suppose not,” Lewis agreed, collapsing onto the sofa beside Emmy, who yawned and stretched to her full length, toes reaching, reaching. Lewis absently stroked her fur. “Are you fretting about meeting Lyn?”

“It never hurts to make a good first impression.”

“By ironing? If you’ve picked out a tie to go with that shirt, I won’t know what to do with you.”

That made James smile. “No tie.”

“It’s not a job interview.”

“It feels like one.”

“Don’t be daft,” Lewis said, getting up. He went over to the ironing board, scooted in behind James, put his arms around him, and pressed his face to a warm shoulder. “She already likes you.” 

“She hasn’t met me,” James pointed out.

“ _I_ like you.” James’s neck was soft with feathery blond hairs. Lewis kissed them. Kissed the protuberance just below the hair. There was a name for that bone, but he couldn’t remember it. C4? Something like that. His hands found their way under James’s t-shirt.

James switched off the iron. “You didn’t, not at first.”

That was true enough. He hadn’t been able to make heads or tails of James. He still couldn’t sometimes. “And now look at me.”

“Let’s hope Lyn doesn’t get quite so familiar.” James turned round in Lewis’s arms and ducked his head for a kiss.

“I won’t be able to have my way with you when we’re up there.” He’d got so used to this. Having this every day. Italy had been different because James wasn’t there. Being at Lyn’s would be a bit like being at work, having James close but holding back when he wanted an armful. Well, not quite so bad as work, but he wasn’t exactly going to get grabby with James when Lyn was around. 

“Then you should take advantage now,” James said in his Love Lines voice. Lewis liked that voice. It did things to his insides.

Wordlessly, they made their way to the bedroom, shut Emmy out, and fell into the rumpled bed. Once they were there, they both seemed to lose their sense of urgency. They lay looking at one another for so long that James laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing. I like your face.”

Lewis didn’t know what to say to that, but he didn’t have to say a thing because James was kissing him, slowly and chastely, first on the mouth, then on the cheek, the temple, the forehead, the top of his ear. Kissing the part of his scalp where his hair had been disappearing.

“I’m losing me hair,” Lewis said, closing his eyes. It felt nice to be kissed like this. It was calming. He realised he’d woken up a bit anxious. What if things went badly with Lyn? But they wouldn’t, would they? He’d chatted with her the day before, and she had seemed…okay. Mixed feelings, he reckoned. That was to be expected.

James shifted position. Lewis couldn’t see, but he thought James was on his hands and knees. Fingers combed through his hair.

“Here,” James said. 

“Yeah. It’s a good thing I can’t see the back.”

“The back is doing well. It’s the front that’s losing the battle.”

Lewis made an exasperated noise.

“I like it.”

“You’ll change your mind when it’s all gone!”

“No. I’ll still like it.” James kissed the thinning spots.

Then James’s mouth found his again, but upside-down. It was a completely different thing being kissed that way. Disorientating. James moved to Lewis’s jaw, then his neck. Then he disappeared for a moment, and Lewis could feel him sprawling out on the bed. He opened his eyes to find James lying the other way, head near Lewis’s thigh. James leant to kiss his bare leg, then his knee. 

“I like your legs, too.”

“You’re in a funny mood.” Lewis had trouble imagining himself in James’s eyes. His legs? James had gone barmy.

James was kissing his calf now, kissing it open-mouthed, nosing at the back of Lewis’s knee. Lewis laughed.

Suddenly, James rolled onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows. He inched down and took one of Lewis’s feet in his hands, studying it critically. “Your feet could use some work.”

“What’s wrong with me feet?”

“Your toenails. You pick at them. You ought to use a clipper.”

Lewis pulled his foot away. “If you try to give me a...” He searched his mind for the word. “A pedicure, that’ll be the end.”

James grabbed Lewis’s foot again, kissing the top of it, then the arch, bending awkwardly. “I wouldn’t,” he said against the sensitive skin.

“Stop! It tickles.”

James laughed softly, got up on his knees, and spread Lewis’s legs, bending to kiss his inner thigh. Lying there with James for the last few minutes, Lewis hadn’t felt aroused, only the pleasant tingle of being touched and being close, but as James nosed at the hem of his boxers and kissed beneath the fabric, a spark lit inside him. He’d been alone so long that he still felt startled, sometimes, at the first touch of James’s hands or his mouth. 

James shifted his attention to Lewis’s t-shirt, sliding his hands under it.

“Hold on.” Lewis sat up with some effort and pulled the t-shirt over his head. When he emerged, James was looking at him intently. A moment later, Lewis was flat on his back being kissed messily. “I’m going to get too old to be doing this with you.”

Pulling back, James gave Lewis a sceptical look. “That’s years off!”

“I know. But someday.”

“When it happens, I’ll just enjoy your company. I’ll bring you hot toddies.”

“I’ll be able to get me own hot toddies!” The image of Morse, alone at the end of his life, flitted across Lewis’s mind. He didn’t like to think of James doing without him later, but there was nothing to be done about it. He held James’s face in his hands, pulled him near, and kissed him gently. 

James supported some of his weight on his elbows, but let his lower body settle onto Lewis. They kept up their slow kisses, in no hurry, but after a few minutes, James canted his hips, rubbing against Lewis’s growing arousal, then he shifted position to kiss a nipple, the flare of dark hair at the sternum, the trail from navel down to elastic of boxers. Lewis lifted his hips, and helped James pull the boxers off before reaching for James’s t-shirt.

When they were both naked, they wove their limbs together, kisses more demanding. Lewis reached between them to run light fingers up and down James’s erection. He felt James’s intake of breath and the vibration of the soft sound he made through their kiss. Lewis kept up his exploration, tracing the line of James’s groin, cupping the taut weight of his balls.

James rolled onto his back, panting, reaching for the base of his cock and giving it a squeeze. “You do things to me.”

“I was hardly touching you!”

“It’s you. It’s —” James stared at the ceiling.

“Chemistry, do you suppose?” Lewis asked, smiling at James fondly, kissing his cheek. “And you were wound up a bit earlier. Makes you more sensitive, maybe.”

“Mm.” James let his head fall to the side. He looked at Lewis for a long moment before he said, “I’m ready. If you are.”

“Yeah,” Lewis said, voice rough. 

He sat up to get the lube and a condom from the bedside table. He handed the condom to James, who tore it open, then bent to unroll it over Lewis’s shaft. Lewis poured some of the lube onto his fingers, but before he could spread it over his cock, James caught his hand and touched his fingers to Lewis’s, taking the dollop of lube from them. Slow and teasing, he rubbed the head of Lewis’s cock through the condom, distributing the lube. Watching James perform that simple task made Lewis’s heart pick up speed.

James held his fingers out, and, fumbling, Lewis squeezed more lube onto them. When that, too, was gone, James took the tube from Lewis’s hand and lay back, knees up, legs spread. Lewis watched him slick his fingers, then press them into himself. God, he was lovely, and he would have let Lewis do anything. It was frightening. 

Lewis laid a hand on a bony knee to steady himself as he got between James’s legs. He stroked thigh and hipbone, then hovered to kiss James’s breathless mouth before sitting back up and resting on his heels. James inched closer, his legs atop Lewis’s thighs. 

“Will it be all right for you like this?”

“I think so.” James brought one leg up, close to his chest to make things easier.

Lewis took hold of his cock, found where he wanted, and slowly pushed inside. James brought his foot back down onto the bed, then lifted up, adjusting. Lewis leant forward to get more leverage, then began to move, sliding in and out just barely. The friction, even through the condom, was intense, and Lewis felt lucky not to be eighteen years old. James was looking at him in a daze, right hand curled around his cock. Lewis took hold of James’s hips, and thrust with more force. James’s eyelids fluttered, and he took a sharp breath.

“Okay?” Lewis asked, worried.

“Yeah, it’s…feel free to do it again.”

Lewis smiled. “You are extra-sensitive today. I’m going to have to be careful with you.”

“You’re always careful.” James laid his left hand on top of Lewis’s.

They both fell quiet as Lewis found a rhythm. Even if he’d wanted to say something, he couldn’t have done. James wasn’t the only one who was extra-sensitive. Lewis stopped thinking altogether, all his brain focussed on watching James’s face, his shifts in expression, his breath. Lewis wanted things never to change. Just this. Every day. His body careened towards orgasm, quickening, no longer in his control. James lifted his hips a bit, meeting Lewis’s thrusts, making soft sounds, and that was all. Lewis came, scrambling not to collapse on top of James, who was only a few seconds behind, furiously fisting his cock until he spilled all over his hand. He turned his head to the side, catching his breath. Lewis didn’t want to move, didn’t want to part with him.

James groped for Lewis’s hand and held onto it. After a moment, Lewis shifted position. James winced as he pulled out. 

“Sorry,” Lewis said. “You were so close behind, I didn’t have time to think.” He kissed James’s shoulder before he padded to the bathroom to bin the condom.

“Did you walk all the way to the bathroom naked?” James asked when Lewis returned.

“Your bad influence.”

James smiled. Lewis climbed into bed beside him, and pulled the covers over them. James yawned. It was catching. Lewis couldn’t stop himself yawning, too. 

“Sometimes, I wish I knew what you were feeling.”

“When?”

“When we’re — you know.”

“There’s a way to fix that,” James said, sleepy-sounding, mumbling, inching closer.

“Mm,” Lewis agreed, his brain going fuzzy. If James would have let him do anything…well, it went both ways, didn’t it? But he was too tired to think about it. He felt weightless, floating, drifting to sleep, vaguely aware that they were going to be late to Lyn’s.

‘’ 

They had planned to leave at seven, but it was already 7:30, and they were only now starting the usual morning routine: Lewis making coffee and James setting out the cereal and milk. Emmy stalked about, meowing for her breakfast. It was just like any other day to her, wasn’t it? She had no idea they were leaving her alone for the weekend. Lewis crouched to give her a pat. He hoped Laura would spend some time with her, the poor lamb. He didn’t want Emmy to think they’d abandoned her just when she’d made this her home. It was too bad they couldn’t bring her with them.

“Are you feeling tenderhearted, Robbie?”

Lewis straightened up and swatted James’s bum. “Hush. I’m not the one who put my dirty shirts in her bed so she wouldn’t feel lonesome.”

“The website said it helps,” James protested.

“She probably won’t even notice we’re gone. Like as not, she’ll sit in the window all day and watch birds, just like always. And she’ll be glad to have the whole bed to herself.”

“If you say so.”

They smiled at one another, then Lewis turned to depress the plunger in the cafetiere. He poured their cups of coffee, listening to the sounds of James scooping food into Emmy’s dish. It was nice waking up like this, having company. James was a bit messy, leaving his clothes lying round the flat, but he remembered where things went in the kitchen, and he had adjusted easily to most of Lewis’s habits. Lewis supposed that was why they’d spent so much time together in the first place: they had similar lives. But James still rehearsed with his band and went off to concerts now and then. That had been recent. It was good for him to get back to that. Lewis didn’t want James giving things up for him.

 _If you go, I go_. There was that. Bad enough. James was a good detective, and it saddened Lewis to think he might move on to other things. Of course, the thought of James having another partner, and running off at all hours... That didn’t exactly sit well with Lewis either. He supposed they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

Over breakfast, Hathaway fell silent, and Lewis followed suit. There was no getting around it now, was there? They were going to Lyn’s. Lewis hadn’t told James how awkward his conversation with her had been, but he supposed James had guessed. 

“Are you done?” James gestured with the box of cereal, getting up from his chair.

“Yeah,” Lewis said, noting that James’s bowl had hardly been touched. “Not hungry?”

James looked a bit green about the gills. Lewis laid a hand on his hip, drew him near, and kissed his belly through the t-shirt he’d been persuaded to wear. 

“You’ll be fine.” He lifted the t-shirt to kiss bare skin, nuzzling at the top of James’s jeans. He heard a huff of laughter above him. 

“We don’t want to be even later,” James warned.

Lewis looked up. “What? Again?”

“If you keep doing that.”

“Why do you have to be so young?” Lewis stood to press a kiss to Hathaway’s mouth. “I’ll do the washing up. Bring our suitcase out?”

James handed him the box of cereal, then retreated to the bedroom. Lewis watched him go, his own stomach knotting up in empathy, then he went to set the bowls and spoons in the dishwasher, put the milk in the fridge, return the cereal to the cupboard, and wipe the worktop dry. He passed James in the hallway, carrying the suitcase and his guitar.

“You’re bringing your guitar?”

James stopped short. “Will she mind?”

Lewis recalled Hathaway standing outside the station, clutching the guitar to his chest. Security blanket. “Of course not,” he said. Lyn was the one who had helped get the guitar back when it had been stolen. It would give them something to talk about. 

Lewis stepped into the bathroom and brushed his teeth distractedly, trying not to think about Lyn. When he came out to the living room, he found Hathaway kneeling by the sofa, kissing Emmy’s tummy. 

“Ready?” Lewis asked. 

Hathaway glanced up at him, then turned back to give Emmy one more kiss.

“You love that cat more than you love me.”

“Never.” James rose to his full height. 

They looked at one another. 

“All right?”

James nodded and reached for his guitar. Lewis picked up the suitcase. Together, they headed out the door.

‘’ 

James was quieter than usual on the drive, but they talked about this and that. Lewis listened to some music Hathaway fancied (he didn’t think much of it, but it wasn’t terrible), then listened to Hathaway talk about the band and some instruments Lewis had never heard of. He supposed one of these days he’d have to go and see Hathaway’s band play. Like being married, wasn’t it? He remembered all the things Val had made him do. Conversational Greek and Ballroom Dancing had been the worst. And, because of work, he’d missed more events than he could count. Tom’s cricket matches, sports days. Lyn’s theatre productions. She’d been in a strop about that on more than one occasion!

Lewis glanced over at Hathaway, whose peakiness had earned him driving privileges. There was a bit more colour to him now, but he had his serious face on. His hand rested on the gearstick, and Lewis covered it with his own. James turned his hand over to caress Lewis’s.

“Don’t fret,” Lewis said, bringing James’s hand to his lips to kiss the knuckles. 

“I’ve gone beyond fretting.” 

Lewis smiled. “I forgot to ask you if you’d been to Manchester before.”

“Never.”

“Lyn thought you might like to see the cathedral.”

“I would. It dates back to the 13th century, if I remember correctly.”

“You always remember correctly.”

James tried not to look pleased but failed. “It suffered heavy damage during the blitz. And there’s a mediaeval bridge that was buried, then excavated fairly recently.”

It was like going round with a living encyclopaedia. A lovely one. Lewis resisted the urge to lean over and kiss James. He was a bad enough driver as it was. It wouldn’t do to distract him.

‘’ 

After he’d parked at the kerb, Hathaway peered out the window at the house. It was a modern terrace, made of red brick. A low wall surrounded the front garden, which looked a bit neglected. Lewis could hardly blame Lyn. She had her hands full these days, preparing for the baby. Maybe he and James could get out there and pull a few dandelions.

“All right. We’re late enough,” Lewis said.

James offered him a small smile. Lewis gave in, kissing him quickly before turning to open his door and get out of the car. A moment later, both of them stood at the open boot. Hathaway took the suitcase, and Lewis grabbed the guitar. Right, then. He slammed the boot.

As Lewis knocked on the door, he realised James hadn’t had a cigarette since they’d left Oxford. James stared at the ground, thoughtful. They should have stopped. Ah, well. 

The door opened to reveal Lyn, much larger than she’d been in Italy. Lewis gathered her into his free arm and kissed her cheek. 

“Hi, Pet.”

“How was your drive?” She released him and reached to enclose James in an awkward hug. “James. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Hathaway said, reminding Lewis of a teenager meeting an important adult of some kind. 

“Well, come on in. It’s a good thing you didn’t get here earlier. We had a lie-in, and I’ve only just got dressed! I’m so lazy lately!”

They followed Lyn into the house. 

“Alex is making coffee,” Lyn explained, heading for the kitchen. “They’re here, love.”

Alex was slim and dark-haired, wearing glasses that made him look as if he should be doing something technical at a computer. Lewis hadn’t spent much time with him, but he seemed nice enough. It was odd, Lyn’s whole life without him. He stepped towards the worktop to shake Alex’s hand.

“Robbie,” Alex said. “And James, nice to meet you. We’re behind schedule, as you can see. You must be near wanting lunch by now.”

“We were thinking we could go out and show you some of the city,” Lyn said.

“Whatever you want, Pet. As long as James gets a cigarette sometime in the near future, I think he’ll be happy.”

“Oh.” Lyn sounded surprised. “You don’t smoke in the house, do you?”

“Only in emergencies.”

“I could —” She looked at Alex. “Do we have something for the back garden?”

“What kind of something?” Alex asked.

“It’s fine,” James said. “I don’t need —”

“Ashtray,” Lyn said.

“Right. Ashtray.” Alex surveyed the kitchen, thinking. “An empty tin, maybe?”

Lyn seemed flustered. “I’ll show you your room. Then you can put your things down.” 

Lewis smiled at James, a kind of apology, then placed his hand at the small of James’s back as they followed Lyn upstairs. “All right?” he asked softly.

James nodded, looking wan.

“Here’s The Bun’s room,” Lyn said, stopping at an open bedroom door. “And it’s your room, too, because this used to be the guest room-slash-office.”

“Do you know yet if it’s a boy or a girl?” Hathaway asked.

“We’ll find out when he’s born. I feel as though it’ll be a boy, so I keep saying ‘him’.” She grinned at Lewis. “I’m never wrong. Right, Dad?”

“You never think you are.”

Lyn laughed. 

Hathaway leant his long body into the room, braced on the door jamb. “It’s lovely.”

The baby would have to be happy in a room like that, moon and stars along the top of the wall. There was already a full shelf of little books. James studied the room, looking wistful. Lewis had a feeling he knew what was on Hathaway’s mind. His family had been a far cry from this one, at least later on. 

“This sofa turns into a bed, and I’ve laid out towels. You’ll tell me if you need anything else, yeah?” She looked at them expectantly.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Lewis set the guitar down beside the sofa bed. He’d slept in it alone when staying with Lyn in the past. Now, he’d be sharing it. The last time he’d visited Manchester, Lyn hadn’t been pregnant. And now she was. Life was full of changes, big and small. “Shall we have a tour of the rest of the house? James hasn’t seen it,” Lewis suggested. “Then we can go get something to eat if you like. You must be starving.”

Lyn rolled her eyes. “Always starving. Christ. It’s a wonder I’m not bigger the way I’ve been going on.”

“We’d better get the two of you fed, then.”

“You’d think I was eating for three!”

Val had been the same way. Some of the weight had stayed after Lyn was born, and Val had gone to all those slimming programmes. Lewis had liked her better with a bit of plumpness to her, but he’d never been able to convince her of that fact. 

Lyn turned and led the way out of the room. Before following her, Lewis quickly took hold of James’s hand, drew him near, and kissed his cheek. 

“What was that for?” James asked as they exited the room.

Lewis didn’t answer him. Lyn was already at the other bedroom. 

“This is our room. The cot’s in here. I felt — I wanted the baby close by, at least at first.”

The cot was hung with a moon and stars mobile. They admired it for a moment before continuing on down the hall.

“Bathroom’s here. And that’s all for the upstairs, really.”

They all trundled downstairs, then walked through the kitchen.

“Does anyone else want coffee?” Alex asked.

They all shook their heads. 

“Ah, I’m the only coffee monster.”

“He drinks six cups a day!” Lyn exclaimed as she opened the door to the back garden. She gestured outside. “Nothing fancy, but we eat out here sometimes.”

The back garden looked a bit neglected, too, but there was a wooden table with four wooden chairs. A sad potted rose bush struggled nearby.

“I found a tin in the recycling,” Alex said, holding it up.

“That’s perfect. Thank you,” Hathaway answered, taking the tin, already patting his pocket for his cigarettes.

“Well, go on,” Lyn said. “I don’t want you dying on us.”

James smiled at her, then slouched out into the garden. Lyn watched him for a moment before shutting the door. Lewis had a feeling something was on her mind, but when she turned to him, all she said was, “What do you fancy for lunch? Curry’s out, I’m afraid. I haven’t been able to eat anything spicy. Oh, and sushi’s out, too.”

“We found out the hard way about the curry,” Alex said, joining them by the window, clutching his cup of coffee.

“Ugh, yeah.”

“We’ll stay away from it. Whatever you feel like, it’s fine with me.” Lewis tilted his head towards the garden. “He’ll eat anything if he’s hungry enough. Somewhere we could have a pint?”

“You drink too much.” Lyn patted Lewis’s belly. “But you’ve lost weight, haven’t you?”

“Four pounds. James’s doing, I reckon.”

“Ah,” Lyn said and looked out the window, watching Hathaway smoke his cigarette.

There was an awkward silence.

“He’s trying to quit,” Lewis said.

“Good. It’s a dreadful habit.” Lyn turned away from the window. “You’re breathing it in, too, being with him all the time.”

“I’ve got bigger things to worry about than a puff of cigarette smoke.” Lewis felt he had to defend Hathaway. “He’s got me eating better, that’s something. Exercising, too. I’ve taken up jogging.”

“What?” Lyn crowed. “You?”

“Don’t act so surprised.”

Lyn giggled, covering her mouth. 

“He bought me a pair of shoes, even.” Lewis felt heat rising to his face. 

“We’d best eat somewhere healthy, then, so we don’t undo all his hard work.”

‘’ 

Lyn played tour guide on the drive into the city centre, pointing out everything from the cricket fields and parks to the shops and the pubs, as she sat in back with Hathaway, who hadn’t said a word since they’d got in the car. From the front passenger seat, Lewis looked out on the passing city.

“It’s a long drive to get lunch,” he said.

Lyn leant forward as much as she could. “I want you to see the city.”

“I’ve seen the city.”

“I thought you’d like to see more of it. We never go anywhere when you visit.”

“I come to see you, not Manchester,” Lewis said. He’d gone to Oxford to escape the north. He supposed Manchester was fine if you had a job you liked, but he’d no idea what had possessed Lyn to come up here. At least the city wasn’t dominated by a herd of scholars. It had that going for it.

“But I want you to like it here.” She put her hand on his shoulder.

“I like it,” Lewis said.

“Yeah, but I want you to _really_ like it. So you’ll feel at home.” 

Lewis had an idea where she was headed with this. He’d considered it when she’d first suggested it months and months ago, but things had changed since then. Now there was Hathaway, who might not want to move to Manchester. It was odd having to think of someone else again. It had been years since he’d had to.

“Oxford’s me home,” he said, and Lyn’s hand slipped from his shoulder. She didn’t say anything more.

They settled on Greek food for lunch, taking a table in the corner of the restaurant. Alex and Lyn sat on one side, Lewis and Hathaway on the other. Lewis smiled at Lyn fondly.

“What?” Lyn demanded, smiling at him.

“You’re just like your mum.”

“This place? She did like Greek food, didn’t she? I didn’t think of it.”

“She made me learn Greek. Or try to.”

Lyn laughed. “When was that?”

Lewis pondered. “You must have been about ten.”

“Ha. Do you remember anything at all?”

“Not a word. I only went to a few classes. Must’ve been during a big case.”

“So mum spoke Greek? I never knew that. Funny, isn’t it, how little you notice about your parents when you’re a kid.”

“And the other way round!”

“What?”

“You were a bit of mystery, too. Especially when you were fourteen.” Lewis turned to Hathaway. “This one was a hellion.”

James smiled, but he didn’t say anything. He still hadn’t said a word except to order his food. Alex had been quiet, too.

“Maybe I was, a little,” Lyn admitted.

Alex leant across the table towards Hathaway and said, “It’s a bit like getting together with friends who all went to the same school, and you didn’t go there.”

“Would you rather we discuss the stock market?” Lyn said archly. “Or golf!” She turned her attention to Hathaway. “What do you do? Outside of work, I mean. Please don’t tell me golf.”

“He rows,” Lewis said, then thought better of speaking for Hathaway. 

“And aren’t you in a band of some sort?” Lyn asked. “You brought your guitar, I forgot!”

“I am in a band.” 

“I used to play guitar,” Alex said. “It’s been years.”

“Have you still got it?” Hathaway asked, coming to life.

“I gave it up after uni. Along with my massive record collection. I regret that.”

“Never give up your record collection,” Hathaway said as if it was one of the commandments, and Alex smiled at him.

“It’s hard to imagine you playing guitar and having a record collection,” Lyn said, taking hold of Alex’s hand.

“I had a life before you,” Alex said.

“I know.” She kissed his cheek.

“I had a Mohican, too.”

“What? How did I not know that about you? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I prefer to forget it myself.” Alex made a face.

“You should take it up again. The guitar, I mean, not the Mohican. You can teach The Bun to be musical.”

“The neighbours will love it if I start playing the guitar, I’m sure. I wasn’t what anyone would consider talented. Or even competent.”

Lewis hadn’t much cared for Alex at first. Thought he was dull. But he’d changed his mind. Alex was sweet with Lyn, and more responsible than she was. They made a good pair. He watched their exchange, feeling affection for the both of them. He glanced over to find James watching him. 

“Why did you give it up?” Lyn asked.

“My mum had a bit of a health scare right after uni, and it — I wanted to — I was worried, I suppose. Banking seemed more stable than being in a band, especially given how awful I was on guitar.” Alex turned to Hathaway. “Didn’t you used to be a priest?”

“Not quite. I didn’t make it through seminary.”

“That’s a change. Seminary to being a policeman.” 

“Something like going from guitarist to financial adviser,” Hathaway noted.

Alex laughed.

Lewis felt a pang, as he always did when this came up. “If you’d stayed in seminary, I never would have met you,” he said, touching their hands together for an instant. 

James blushed, and the table fell silent. 

“I forgot about pints,” Lyn said suddenly. “They don’t serve alcohol here.”

“We’re fine,” Lewis assured her, but he would have been grateful for a pint. He wondered when Lyn would get used to the idea of him being with James. If she ever would.

“I think that’s our food.”

They all turned towards the approaching waitress. Mercifully, she set down their plates, and for a minute, everyone was occupied putting serviettes on their laps and tucking in.

Mid-bite, Lyn stopped. “Shit. We forgot to say grace.”

“Don’t let the baby hear you talk like that. And since when do you say grace?”

“I don’t. But —” She glanced at Hathaway.

“He doesn’t say grace,” Lewis said. At least he didn’t think Hathaway did. All of a sudden, he realised he didn’t know. “Do you?” 

“Rarely. And not in a restaurant.”

“Do you know, when you first became my dad’s sergeant, he rang me, and he said: ‘I’ve got a God-botherer for me sergeant!’ Do you remember that, Dad?”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“He didn’t think much of God back then.”

“He still doesn’t,” Hathaway said.

“Does it bother you?”

“Only when he mocks me.”

Lyn laughed loudly, and the moment of awkwardness was gone.

‘’ 

By evening, Lewis was knackered. He’d been up since the wee hours, and the day had got off to an energetic start. When you added the long drive and navigating around Lyn and Alex with Hathaway beside him… Who could blame him for being tired? Alex had barbecued steaks for dinner, and Lewis was pleasantly full. All he wanted to do was lie down. He stumbled into the guest room behind Hathaway, yawning a long yawn, and shut the door behind them.

“Don’t fall over just yet. We have to unfold the bed,” Hathaway said, laying a steadying hand on Lewis’s arm.

“Yeah,” Lewis agreed, enjoying the pleasant tingle resulting from Hathaway’s light kiss. 

From somewhere in the room came a soft beep. 

“That’s yours.” 

“Where is it?” Lewis wasn’t used to thinking about his phone when he wasn’t at work. It usually went in his jacket pocket.

“In here, maybe?” James unzipped the pocket on the side of the suitcase. A moment later, he had the phone in his hand.

The message was from Laura: _Em Dash fed! Suspicious at first, but food made her look kindly on me._

Lewis smiled and handed the phone to James. “You can stop worrying. She’s in good hands.”

“I wasn’t worried!”

James couldn’t fool him. Lewis took the phone back, and tapped out a return message. Then, together, he and James moved the cushions out of the way, unfolded the bed, and covered the mattress with the sheets and blanket Lyn had set out. Lewis yawned again. It was nice, this, having someone to sleep with. It made him look forward to going to bed.

“I’d better brush my teeth,” he said. “While I still can.”

James smiled at him, fuzzy and golden. He set the suitcase on the bed, unzipped it, and handed Lewis the little bag containing his toothbrush and razor.

“Thanks,” Lewis said, gesturing with the bag. 

In socked feet, he padded down the hall to the bathroom. Lyn and Alex were still downstairs. He could hear the sound of their conversation but not their actual words. He brushed his teeth, peed, then padded back to the bedroom, feeling a bit more awake, the taste of fresh mint in his mouth. He went round to the far side of the bed, and began pulling off his jumper and jeans. He put on his blue pyjamas, which he hadn’t worn in an age. By the time he got under the covers, Hathaway had gone. Lewis heard the gentle sound of voices again, Hathaway’s among them, and then quiet. A few minutes later, the door opened. He watched James strip down to his pants and t-shirt, then put on pyjama bottoms.

“Are you being shy?” Lewis asked. He’d got used to James parading about the flat with not a stitch on. Or sometimes with just boxers.

“Just…cautious.” He climbed in on his side of the bed, book in hand. “Will it bother you if I read?”

“Nah,” Lewis answered. “As long as you don’t lecture me about — what is it?” He lifted his head slightly to look at Hathaway’s book. “ _Heaven Lake_? What’s that, then?”

“It’s an account of Vikram Seth’s travels through China, Tibet, and India.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” Lewis shifted onto his side, laying an arm across James’s lap, pressing his face into pyjamad hip. 

Hathaway held the book with one hand, while, with the other, he scratched lightly at Lewis’s scalp. “Shall I read to you?”

“What for?”

“Because _usually_ we’re doing the same thing when we’re in bed.”

Lewis felt his face get hot. Other parts of him, too.

“If I read to you, we still can.”

“All right. But I’ll probably fall asleep.” Lewis yawned just saying it. He closed his eyes and felt James set the book in his lap, heard him turn the page, then lift the book again.

There was a soft knock on the door. 

“Come in,” James said.

Lewis opened his eyes and made an effort to sit up. Lyn had poked her head in the door.

“Oh! Sorry!”

“It’s all right, Pet. We’re just reading. What do you need?”

“I forgot to ask you about tomorrow. The Cathedral.”

“Ah, right,” Lewis said, looking at James.

“Did you want to go to services? I looked online and the first thing’s at 8:45. Do you go to that?”

“I don’t go to anything,” Hathaway said.

“Oh.” Lyn looked stymied. “Um.”

“And after growing up with him, I suspect you don’t either.”

Lyn grinned. “Not a chance.”

“Services won’t be all day. Could we go in the afternoon?”

“Uh…” Lyn looked over her shoulder, calling down the hall. “Alex! What does it say about afternoon?”

Alex shouted something Lewis couldn’t make out.

Lyn brought her head back in. “He said afternoon’s good, but there’s a service at half four. So…before that?”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Okay, Dad?”

“Fine with me.”

“Okay. Sorry to bother you.” She looked flustered. “Good night. See you in the morning. We usually — well, you know what time we get up. If you’re up earlier, help yourself to coffee, yeah? We can go out for something when we’re all up if you like.”

They said their goodnights. When Lyn had shut the door, Lewis looked carefully at James. “All right, love?”

James looked away, set his book aside, then, head bowed, curled into Lewis, pushing until gravity drew them down to the bed. Lewis wrapped James in his arms and kissed his head. He thought he knew what James was feeling.

They lay there in silence for a few minutes. Lewis lightly rubbed James’s back.

“I like this room,” James mumbled, finally.

“I thought you might.”

“The Bun is lucky.”

“Yeah. She’ll be a good mum, our Lyn.” 

“I don’t think she quite likes me.”

“Give her time.”

Hathaway dislodged himself from Lewis’s arms and climbed on top of him, hovering before kissing him, tongue and all. Lewis felt his body’s immediate response, his hands bringing James closer before he could think better of it. He let James have his way for a time, liking the taste of him, the feel of his weight.

When James gave him time to breathe, he said, “We’d best stop. Go on.” He gave one bum cheek a pat.

James gave him one more quick kiss before rolling off him and returning to his half of the bed.

“It’s not that she doesn’t like you,” Lewis said. “Try to see it from her side.”

“I do. And if I were her, I’d hate me.”

“Don’t be daft.” He turned onto his side again, and found Hathaway had done the same. He touched a finger to James’s nose. Kissed him, sleepy. “I’m so done in, I couldn’t make love to you even if we were at home. Are you going to read?”

“I don’t think I can sleep just yet.”

“Read, James.” Lewis got comfy, closing his eyes. He felt James scoot closer to him until they were lying side by side, touching. When James began to read, his voice was close, so close it was almost as if his words were coming from somewhere inside Lewis’s dreams.

‘’ 

Lewis had never visited churches before he’d met Hathaway. To him, they were places other people went. He only set foot inside them when there was a murder. But he’d liked San Miniato. He remembered wishing James had been there with him to tell him things about it. But he had James to tell him about the cathedral. Never too late to learn new things, he reckoned.

The four of them gathered inside the church. Above them, rows of windows let in light, and an ornate wooden ceiling arched high above them. 

“I’ve never been here,” Lyn said. “Have you?” she asked Alex.

He shook his head, gazing up at the stained glass windows behind them.

“The blitz shattered the Victorian stained glass,” Hathaway said, “and caused extensive damage to the rest of the building. It was also damaged in the Manchester bombing in 1996. This cathedral has withstood quite a few batterings.” He indicated one of the windows. “The apocalypse.”

“It’s old,” Lyn said, looking at her brochure. “Older than it looks!”

“There was a church in Manchester before this one,” Hathaway said. “Destroyed by the Danes.”

“Not easy being a church back then, was it?” Lyn said.

“It’s not easy now,” Hathaway answered. “No tithes.”

Lyn laughed, then covered her mouth. Lewis smiled to himself. 

“And fewer parishioners.”

Looking at the windows, Lewis could feel the colourful light shining on him. Blues and reds and yellows. Pretty, but he had no idea what he was looking at. A bit abstract, it was. “What’s this one?” Lewis asked.

“That. Is your God. Creating the world.”

“Your God, maybe,” Lewis said.

They stared at the windows for a moment longer. Lyn took Alex’s hand and began to wander.

“Shall I show you the misericords?”

“What in bloody — what are they?” Lewis asked, catching himself. He might not believe in God, but it still felt wrong to say ‘hell’ in church. 

“You’ll like them, I promise.”

“All right.” Lewis followed Hathaway farther into the church. They entered a dark chamber sort of thing. “Are we near the organ?”

“Yes. These are the choir stalls. And these,” James said, leaning gently on a railing, “are the misericords.”

The entrance to the choir stalls was roped off, but Lewis leant past the railing to look. “Give over. What are they, then?”

“In the ‘olden times’, as you would say, people would stand for prayers, sometimes for hours. The misericords were a form of cheating. They provided a little ledge for your bum.”

“Misericords. Because you were miserable?”

“The opposite. It means ‘mercy’.”

“Clever clogs.” Lewis looked at one of the upturned seats. 

“They often depicted secular scenes, like these two playing backgammon.”

“Hide your sins under your bum?”

James smiled at him. “Perhaps it was because they didn’t want sacred scenes under their bums.”

“Believe it or not, I missed you when I was in Italy. There was no one to give me long lectures about everything.”

“What are you two looking at?” Lyn asked, coming over with Alex.

“Bum ledges,” Lewis said.

“I always wondered what those were,” Alex said.

James got his lecturey face. “‘Misericord’ is the technical term, but ‘bum ledge’ will do. These are from the 16th century.”

Lewis leant his head towards Hathaway. “He knows everything. Useful at work.”

“That’s a lot of bums.” Lyn calculated. “Five hundred years of bums.”

“The servitude of a misericord,” Hathaway said in a sad voice.

Lyn laughed again.

“I never get his jokes,” Lewis said.

“Yes, you do. You just pretend you don’t.”

Lewis smiled and bumped his shoulder into Hathaway’s. 

“I’d like to look in the chapels. If you don’t mind,” James said. 

“Of course we don’t mind,” Lyn said.

Together, they walked towards the rear of the church and entered one of the chapels. At one end of it stood a stained glass window of fiery reds and oranges, bathing the room in warm light. 

Lyn was gazing at the ceiling. “Ceilings like this always remind me of Noah’s ark. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” James agreed, looking up. “If we were turned upside-down.”

When they got to the other side of the cathedral, there was one last stained glass window, the nicest one yet, beautiful blues and greens at the bottom, lightening to orange, red, and yellow at the top, like sunlight coming up from the earth. Below it were the words: Diversity Healing Glory Wholeness Inclusion. 

Lewis stood in front of the window beside James while Lyn and Alex wandered. He wondered if they were intentionally going off on their own. He was glad of it in a way. He liked James talking to him in the way he did when they were alone.

“This is the one put in to commemorate the IRA bombing.” Hathaway paused. “Do you know what I like about this church?”

“You like all churches.”

“This one in particular.”

“What?”

“It’s been bombed by the Germans and by terrorists, egregious architectural crimes have been committed against it, parts have been rebuilt, the stones have been replaced, but it’s still here.”

A bit like the two of them, Lewis thought, but he didn’t say that. “It’s not bad for a church. I rather like it meself.”

James looked over at him. They were standing so close that their arms were touching. Lewis hardly had to move at all to weave his fingers with James’s and give his hand a squeeze. James smiled and looked away. Lewis let go.

“We missed the bells.”

“Did we?”

“This morning. Change ringing.”

Lewis sighed. “Go on. Tell me what it is.”

“It’s what you hear Sunday morning at Christ Church.”

Lewis tried to remember what that sounded like, but he couldn’t. 

“Mathematical patterns of ringing.” James leant close and said in Lewis’s ear: “I’ll take you when we’re back home.”

“Don’t talk to me like that in here.” 

“What?” James said innocently.

James knew full well what he meant. Lewis took a step away from him, as Lyn and Alex rejoined them. 

When they turned to move on, James said, “Do you mind if I stay here for a minute?”

“We’ll meet you outside,” Lewis said. 

Lyn glanced back, and then at her father, before they headed out. When the doors had closed behind them, she said, “He’s...odd, isn’t he? Contradictory, I mean. How do you — how do you give up seminary and then... I guess people do, don’t they, but they don’t become detectives after.” She looked to her father for explanation.

“I think he sees it as correcting injustice.”

“It makes a weird sort of sense,” Alex said.

“But it still matters to him. Religion, I mean,” Lyn observed.

“He’s not had the easiest life. I reckon God was the only thing he had at one time.”

“Now he has you,” Lyn said with an odd sound to her voice.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I could never take the place of God.”

‘’ 

Lyn was oddly quiet as they drove back to the house. After parking, they all went up the path together. Alex unlocked the door and then shut it behind them. They trailed through the front hallway, and into the open living room and kitchen area.

“Tea?” Alex asked, picking up the kettle.

“That would be lovely,” Lyn said, wilting onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. She pushed strands of hair out of her face. “And then I should get going on this pasta and the salad.”

Hathaway leant silently against the worktop beside the hob. There was an awkward quiet.

Lyn looked tired, Lewis thought. He sat down beside her. “We could take care of things,” he said. “James is good in the kitchen.”

“You’re our guests!”

“Perfectly happy to cook,” Alex added.

“I know. But you look as if you could do with a rest, and God knows Alex has been running about, painting the baby’s room and whatnot.”

Lyn looked indecisive. Alex set the kettle to boil, then he put an arm round Lyn and kissed her cheek. “We’ll take care of lunch tomorrow. Have a sit on the sofa. I’ll bring you your tea.”

“All right.” She smiled at him. “Sorry. I think this baby’s catching up with me. Let me get the recipe and make sure we have everything we need. And then I’ll sit.” She got up and fetched a recipe book from on top of the fridge. “It’s mum’s recipe. The pasta bake, remember?”

“It’s the only thing all of us agreed on.”

“It’s too bad Tom’s not here. Have you talked to him lately?”

“It’s been a month, at least.”

“So, he doesn’t know about — I mean...”

Lewis grimaced. “No.”

“I got an email from him a couple of weeks ago.” She turned to Alex. “Love, did I remember to get sausage?”

“Hold on,” Alex said, opening the fridge. “I don’t see sausage.” He opened one of the drawers. “Sausage? Sausage?” he said, as if calling out to it. “No.”

“Damn. Salad stuff?”

Alex opened a different drawer and peered in. “Lettuce. Cucumber. No tomatoes. There’s a red pepper.”

“Dressing, we’ve got, yeah?”

“Plenty.”

“I could go and get the sausage and tomatoes,” Hathaway offered, lifting himself away from the worktop. 

“Would you?” Lyn said, turning to him.

“Of course. Do we need parmesan?”

“Oh! Good one. I’m sure we do. Unless we happen to have some?” She looked at Alex.

“No parm.”

“I’ll get that, too,” Hathaway said. “Have you got a carrier bag?”

“They’re on a hook by the front door.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Lewis asked.

“You stay with Lyn,” James said. “I remember the way, and the walk will give me a chance to indulge my addiction.” 

As James walked past the island, on his way towards the living room and the front hallway, Lewis stood, reached for his hand, drew him near, and gave him a quick kiss. “We’ll see you in a bit, then.”

For a moment, James looked completely dumbfounded, but then he recovered and leant towards Lewis, kissing him again before releasing his hand and continuing on. Lewis heard the front door open and shut. 

“Sit down, Pet,” Lewis said, turning to Lyn. “Have your tea.”

“Sit with me for a bit?”

“I’ll bring both of you your tea,” Alex said.

“He’s a keeper, isn’t he?” Lyn said, moving towards the living room.

“Yeah,” Lewis agreed.

He sat in one of the armchairs while Lyn sat heavily on one end of the sofa. 

“Now I’ve sat, I’ll never get up again.” She looked towards the kitchen. “Love, do you think we could install some levers or hoists above the sofa? Help me up when you’re not here.”

“Whatever you like.” 

“He agrees with everything I say these days.”

“Knows what side his bread is buttered on,” Lewis said. “You said a few more weeks before you leave work?”

“Two weeks now. I thought I’d be able to go longer. We had a girl recently who worked until they carted her to the delivery room! I don’t know how she did it. I’m made of more delicate stuff, I suppose.”

“More sensible stuff,” Lewis countered.

“Maybe!”

They sat silently for a minute. Lyn was usually chattier. She had something on her mind, Lewis suspected. She hadn’t seemed this tired in June, but that had been two months earlier. A lot could change in two months. He regretted the fact that he didn’t see her more often. It would have been easier to tell her about James, then. Instead, Laura had learnt about him first. 

“Biscuits?” Alex called.

“Yes, please,” Lyn answered.

A moment later, Alex appeared with the tea tray. He sat on the sofa with Lyn, handing her a mug.

“Thank you.”

Lewis leant forward to add milk and sugar to his tea, then settled back into his chair. “Who moved the other sofa upstairs? You weren’t lifting that thing yourself, were you?”

“Alex got one of his mates to help.”

“Good.”

“We’ll need a bigger house soon, I think.” She looked over at Alex. “But we’ll both need to be working to do that.”

“I was thinking of setting up a tent outside for my home office,” Alex joked. “Or I could use the cupboard, and we could chuck all the coats and shoes outside.”

A long discussion of different areas of Manchester, affordability, number of bedrooms, and other housing matters ensued. And then child care came up.

“When do you think you’ll retire, Dad? It would be nice if you could spend time with The Bun.”

Lewis had already had a few tense discussions with Lyn about this. She wasn’t the only one who wanted more visits. He wanted them, too, but he wasn’t ready to give up working yet, even if he could be useful in Manchester. “It’ll be another year, at least.”

“I expect James doesn’t want you to retire.”

It was complicated, and without knowing James the way Lewis did, Lyn would never understand. “He wouldn’t know what to do with himself. He’d have a hard time working with someone else. I don’t know. Maybe he’d get on all right.”

“He can’t depend on you for everything.” 

There was something petulant in Lyn’s voice. “No,” Lewis agreed. “But he never quite fitted in with the other coppers. He might move on to something else when I retire.”

“Like what?”

“Something academic, I’d wager.”

“Teaching?”

Lewis tried to imagine James in a professorial capacity. It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. 

“Anything could happen between now and then,” Lyn added.

“What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ , this is a new thing for you, and it’s only been a few months.”

It took a few seconds for Lewis to process her words. He had a feeling he’d said something similar to her when she’d made the decision to follow Tim to Manchester. 

“You’re a bit like James,” he said. 

Alex got up from his end of the sofa. “I’ve got some emails to catch up on. I’m going to hide away upstairs for a while.”

“Okay.” Lyn looked up at him. 

Alex slid away, and they watched him go.

“A bit like James how?” Lyn asked.

“He didn’t think it would last either.” 

Lyn stared silently into her tea.

“We’ve had our ups and downs in the six years we’ve known each other, but all that time... The things you find out about one another, working together. I don’t think there’s anyone I’ve known better in me life besides your mum. And he knows me.”

“He’s the first person you’ve really dated since Mum, and it’s understandable that you’d think this is it, but...” She stared out the window. “I’m objective. You’re not.”

“I wouldn’t call you objective,” Lewis said, irritated.

“Do you know how it looks?” Lyn’s voice broke, and tears filled her eyes. “I can tell you.”

“I know how it looks. But if there’s one thing I’ve learnt from years of detective work, it’s that things aren’t always how they look. Don’t think I was so lonely that the first person to climb in bed with me was going to make me go all soft in the head.”

“I’m not saying that.”

“I don’t know how to say it so you’ll believe me. He’s here for good. I know it’s hard for you. I wish — Ah, I don’t know.”

Lyn leant forward awkwardly and with effort to set her cup on the table. Her nose was running. She struggled to get up from the sofa. Instinctively, Lewis got up, set his mug down, and offered her a hand. She took it, and he followed her to the kitchen, where she tore a piece of kitchen towel off the roll and blew her nose with it. Lewis let her be for a minute. 

“I’m trying to understand. I’m happy for you, I am, but I don’t know. It’s weird. He’s a perfectly nice bloke, but seeing you with him, it’s weird in so many ways. He’s my age, Dad.”

Lewis opened his mouth to protest that James was four years older than Lyn, but he could guess her answer, and she went on before he could get in a word.

“I mean, I get that he’s not exactly like everyone else, but he’s still — you’re old enough to be his dad! And it’s just — weird.”

“He can’t change his age, and I can’t change mine. There’s no point in me fretting about it. He makes me happy. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“You’d come up here, and Alex and I would take care of you.” 

“I don’t need taking care of. I’m not geriatric yet!”

“I didn’t mean that.” Lyn stared at the floor, trying to pull herself together and failing. “I know he’s good for you. I can see it, and I’m happy for that, but that doesn’t make it easier to see you with someone who’s not Mum. I don’t want anyone else. I want Mum.”

“I miss her, too. Don’t think I’ve stopped.”

“No, I know you haven’t. I know I’m being childish.”

“You’re allowed.”

“And he’s going to keep you in Oxford. You were going to move up here, and now you’re not! You won’t want to!”

Once you were a father, you were always a father, weren’t you? Trying to comfort your lass when she was upset. Lewis gathered Lyn into his arms and rested his cheek against her hair. She hugged him tightly.

“I’ve spent more than half me life in Oxford. I moan about it, but it’s home. I’m a bit set in me ways by now, and it wouldn’t be an easy thing to move somewhere new, no matter how much I wanted to.”

“I miss you.”

“I’m not saying I won’t move up here, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Privately, Lewis thought it unlikely, but Lyn would calm down in time. In the meantime, he needed to soothe her.

“You would, if it weren’t for him.” Lyn pulled out of her father’s embrace.

“I’ve got other friends in Oxford.” Laura. But Lewis couldn’t really name anyone else. 

“You always seemed so lonely there. Well, until recently.”

“More than recently.” How long had James been such a big part of his life? He didn’t remember it happening.

Lyn didn’t say anything, but sniffled loudly and tried to breathe. 

The front door opened. The two of them turned to see who it was. But it could only have been one person. Hathaway appeared in the kitchen a moment later, two carrier bags in his hand. 

He stopped short when he saw them. “I’ll just —” He glanced at the bags, then set them down on the worktop. He disappeared again, and Lewis heard the door shutting after him.

“Sorry,” Lyn said. “I’m a mess.”

“It’s fine.” Lewis gathered her into his arms again. “I love you, Pet. I want you to be happy.”

“He’s changed you. You never would have gone to a cathedral before.”

“I went with you in Italy! And he hasn’t _changed_ me. It’s important to him, is all. I’ve got to at least give it a chance, haven’t I? Or put up with it like I put up with your mum’s conversational Greek!”

Lyn sniffled, but she made an effort to smile.

“I’ve got used to high-minded academics over the years. What’s one more?” 

“He does go on! Doesn’t he bore you sometimes?”

“Hush, don’t tell him.”

Lyn laughed, pulling away to blow her nose again.

“Give him a chance, will you? I didn’t like him at first, if you remember.”

“Yeah.” 

“And you liked him well enough before. You know all the things he’s done for me.”

“I know.”

Lewis had told her about Oswald Cooper and Simon Monkford. James had gone the extra mile for him from day one, hadn’t he? Even on their very first case together. He’d nearly forgotten about that. Lewis watched Lyn, waiting.

“They say pregnancy makes you more emotional than usual. You can’t take me seriously.”

“I’d never not take you seriously, but I’ve got him to think about, too. I can’t — choose sides.”

“I’m not asking you to.” Lyn gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

“Anything I can do — or he can do — to make it easier?”

Lyn shook her head fiercely. 

“I’d better go out and give him a kiss, then, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Do you really — it must’ve been weird for you. I mean —” She stopped, unable to say the words.

Lewis knew what she meant. “You get used to one person, and anyone else is… It wouldn’t have mattered who it was. James or — or Laura. But he and I get on better. And he was pushier. Needs me more, too, I reckon. The rest is just body parts.” 

He and Lyn looked at each other, and he felt she understood. He leant his head towards the hallway to indicate that he was headed out, and then he went.

‘’ 

Lewis often thought about how he and Hathaway must appear to an outsider, but it had been some time since he’d looked at James without the familiarity of six years. James was just James. But to Lyn he was a clever clogs, cigarette-smoking God-botherer, too young to be her father’s partner. Lewis didn’t think of him as young at all, except, occasionally, when it came to rumpy-pumpy or all-nighters during a case.

But now Lewis had a good view of him, sitting on the low wall surrounding the front garden of Lyn’s house, smoking a cigarette and squinting into the late afternoon sun. He was wearing the shirt he’d been pressing the previous morning, the one Lewis had talked him out of wearing for first impressions. The back hem was rumpled and untucked from his jeans. The shirt was lavender. And, beneath it, James’s shoulders were curved inward, his back rounded. If Lewis hadn’t known him, he might have walked right by James without a second glance. There was nothing suspicious or particularly striking about him — after years of being a copper, Lewis assessed everyone on the street in terms of criminal potential. James could have been any friend of Lyn’s out for a smoke. Lewis knew other people found James attractive at first glance. He hadn’t. Not even after they’d kissed. But after a few kisses, he’d changed his mind.

Lewis closed the front door behind him, walked down the path, exited the gate, and perched beside James on the wall. James bent to rub out his cigarette on the pavement. He set the butt on the wall beside him instead of tossing it into the street.

“I’ve got you trained, have I?”

“I have an irrational desire to please you.”

“Rational, more like.”

They sat shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. They’d always sat that way, always liked being close. Both of them. That was something Lewis had realised when things had first started up between them. Maybe he’d wanted James from the start, only he hadn’t known. He hadn’t known what to call it, how to say it.

“Do you know I was scared out of me mind the first time you kissed me?”

“I’m sure it was nothing compared to my level of terror.” Hathaway gazed at the pavement at his feet. “Looking back — It was foolhardy. I had no idea what you’d do.”

Lewis reached for James’s hand. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. He wasn’t one for sentiment, but he could sit there beside James and hold his hand. The neighbours could say what they liked. Maybe they wouldn’t even notice. 

After a minute had passed, Lewis said, “Shall we go in and cook dinner?”

Hathaway turned to him, looking uncertain, as though he might say something fretful. 

“Don’t get like that. Everything’s going to be fine.” Lewis leant close and kissed him. 

“What was that for?” James asked when Lewis broke away.

“You were worrying.” He stood.

James picked up the cigarette butt. “That’s the second time. Don’t make a habit of it. I might pretend to worry just to get you to kiss me.”

That was James being silly. 

Together, they walked back into the house, where they found Lyn in the kitchen unpacking the carrier bags, scrutinising two cartons of lager. She looked up.

“Alcohol-free lager?”

Hathaway deposited his cigarette butt in the bin. “I didn’t want you to feel excluded,” he explained. “But I can’t vouch for the flavour.” 

“Thank you. You’re sweet.” She gave Hathaway’s arm a squeeze before turning to Lewis. “Dad, I think I’ll go upstairs and lie down for a bit.”

Lyn’s eyes were still puffy and red, but she seemed to have recovered from her earlier upset. Lewis gave her a hug. 

“We’ll take care of everything. Go on up and rest.”

“Not quite warm enough to eat outside, is it? I’ll be down later to help you set the table in here.”

“Don’t do a thing. Get on with you.”

They watched Lyn go. Lewis looked at James. “I hope you know something about making baked pasta because if you don’t, I hate to think what we’ll be serving.”

Hathaway smiled. “I believe...” He leant to grab something from the worktop. “She left us the recipe.” He studied the book. 

Lewis stood beside him and read. It was Val’s recipe, her handwriting. He touched the page gently. “I haven’t had this since Val made it for me.” He slid an arm round James, leaning on him. 

James set the book down. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“What are you thanking me for? I couldn’t _not_ bring you, could I?” 

James gave him an odd smile, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he picked up the packet of pasta Lyn had laid out and began opening it. 

Sometimes, Lewis thought, he had no idea what was going on in James’s mind.

‘’ 

Lyn and Alex appeared about an hour later, when the pasta bake was nearly done and James was setting the table. Lewis had put the salad together, and it sat waiting in the fridge.

“Sorry. I fell asleep,” Lyn said. “I’ve been no help at all.”

“You need your rest,” Lewis said. “Lager?” 

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Alex?”

“Sure.”

Lewis got two lagers, one alcohol-free, from the fridge, popped the caps off, and set them in front of Alex and Lyn, who’d sat at the table. Hathaway sat with them, sliding his lager over to his place. Lewis grabbed his own bottle from the worktop and filled the last place at the table.

A beep interrupted the silence. Hathaway reached into his pocket, then checked his phone. “Em Dash has been fed,” he reported. “Dr Hobson sent a picture.”

Lewis rolled his eyes. “You put her up to that, I suppose.” He reached for the phone.

“I didn’t!”

“Might be my fault. I told her you were worried.” 

On the small screen of James’s Blackberry was a picture Laura had taken by holding the phone at arm’s length. In it, Em Dash was curled up on Laura’s lap.

“Let me see,” Lyn demanded. “I can’t believe you haven’t shown me before now.”

Lewis handed her the phone.

“Aw, bless!”

“There are more,” James said. He took the phone from Lyn and poked at it. “Here she is sleeping with her mouse.” He scooted his chair closer to Lyn to show her. 

“Oh my God. Alex, we need to get a dog.”

“A dog?” Lewis asked. “You’ve never had a dog!”

“I’ve never had a baby either!”

“This house isn’t big enough for a dog,” Alex said. 

“Alex is allergic to cats,” Lyn informed them.

“Let me show you my favourite.” James took the phone back and found the picture he wanted.

Lyn giggled.

“What? Which one is it?”

James said, “The one with you.”

“I wish you’d get rid of that.” Lewis remembered the picture: He was holding Emmy, and she’d put her nose right up to his, as if she was giving him a kiss.

“You two are like parents showing off pictures of your baby,” Lyn said.

Alex placed a hand on Lyn’s belly. “We’ll be doing the same thing soon enough.” 

“God. And I’m going to stop in the fruit and veg aisle and talk to other mums about nappies and feeding times, aren’t I? I already chat with all the mums in Mothercare. Revolting.” Lyn sighed. “I never thought this would be me.”

“No?” Lewis asked.

“No! I just — I don’t know. It didn’t occur to me. I wasn’t one of those women dreaming about having babies.”

“Val was. Wanted them from the start.”

“And then she got me. Hah!”

“Changed her mind pretty quick.”

Lyn laughed.

Thirty years. Lewis had known her from the time she was a teensy thing in Val’s belly. She’d been a miracle, clapping her hands and looking at him as if he was the most brilliant person in the world. He’d missed her first steps, but he’d taught her to ride her bicycle. He’d held her when she’d crashed and knocked her teeth out. He’d never forget the fright of seeing her, her face running with blood. Later, she’d been a mystery, sulking in her room, drowning him out with loud music. He was sure she’d kept a lot of secrets from that time. Drinking. Maybe drugs. But she’d turned out all right. He supposed he’d done a good enough job bringing her up, then. Or Val had.

The oven timer binged. Lewis began to get up, but James laid a hand on his. 

“I’ll get it.” 

“There’s still the salad,” Lewis answered. He got up, too.

“Do you want help?”

“You sit.”

“I’m tired of people telling me to sit!”

“Enjoy it while you can,” Alex said, full of wisdom.

“He’s right,” Lewis said, opening the fridge and removing the salad. He set it on the worktop and took the cling film off the bowl.

“I’m going to have to take up jogging after The Bun is born. Otherwise I’ll never get rid of this weight.”

“You look nice,” Alex said.

Lyn made an exasperated noise. “Oh! I can come and visit you in Oxford, and we can run together! You’ll be about my speed.”

“I might just outrun you,” Lewis said. He put the salad and tongs on the table. “Even with me zimmer frame.”

James laid trivets on the table, then disappeared to the kitchen again. He appeared a minute later, hands in oven gloves, carrying the glass dish full of steaming, cheesy pasta. He set it neatly on the trivets, and then sat down next to Lewis.

“Smells good,” Lewis said.

“Yeah,” Lyn agreed. “It reminds me of being a kid. Why do smells do that?”

“Animal brain,” Alex said.

James picked up the serving spoon. “Pass me your plate.”

Lyn did. “Thank you.”

There was silence as everyone dished their salad and pasta. When they all had full plates in front of them, James suddenly said, “I’d like to say grace tonight. If it’s all right.”

Lyn looked at him in surprise. “Of course. You don’t mind a couple of heathens joining in?”

“Three, you mean.” Hathaway nodded towards Lewis.

Lyn pointed at her belly. “Four, probably.” 

“I don’t mind.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever said grace. Are we supposed to — I don’t know. What do we do?”

James reached across the table for Lyn’s hand. His other hand sought Lewis’s. Despite all the ways they’d touched one another, Lewis felt unusually conscious of James’s hand in his, the feel of his skin, the warmth. 

When they’d all joined hands, James bowed his head. Lewis did the same, closing his eyes.

“Lord, we thank you for the food before us, however many mistakes we made while cooking it. We thank you for good company and family, for the people who come into our lives when we’ve experienced loss, the people who take care of us when we can’t take care of ourselves. Bless this table. Bless The Bun, even if he turns out to be a heathen. Amen.”

Lewis felt James releasing his hand. He opened his eyes and saw his Lyn smiling at him. 

“It wasn’t in Latin.” Lyn laughed. “I don’t know why I thought it would be. All those movies about Oxford and Cambridge, maybe.”

“He can say it in Latin, if you like. He can say anything in Latin.”

“If you can swear in Latin, Lyn will love you forever,” Alex said.

Lewis began eating. “You’d better stop with it when he’s born. Where did you get that mouth, anyway? Not from me!” 

“Where do you think?”

“Val didn’t swear that much!”

“You didn’t help her with the washing and ironing. That really brought it out.”

“Ah,” Lewis said.

“So, can you?” Lyn asked, looking at James expectantly.

“What?”

“Swear in Latin.”

“I own a book about it.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Lewis said.

“There’s a book?” Lyn asked.

“If one is going to seriously read Catullus, Martial or Juvenal, one should own Adams’s volume: _Latin Sexual Vocabulary_. It contains all of the basics, and then some.”

Lewis wondered what ‘and then some’ covered. He’d have to ask James about that later.

“You have to teach me!” Lyn turned to Alex. “If we swear in Latin, The Bun won’t know we’re swearing, will he?”

“The Bun won’t know if we’re doing it in English either. It’ll all be the same to him.”

“But when he gets older.”

“Then he’ll just learn to swear in Latin.”

“But at least he won’t get in trouble at school.” To James, she said, “Teach me?”

“All right.” James smiled down at his food.

Lewis felt suddenly and acutely aware of how lucky he was. Nearly ten years he’d spent resenting God or whatever power had taken Val from him. He’d spent ten years unhappy, feeling as though life hadn’t treated him fairly. But some people never found love, did they? He’d been lucky to have Val. He’d had two beautiful children with her, and he loved them dearly. And he was lucky again, sitting here with his daughter and his soon-to-be grandson; Alex, who was something like a son-in-law; and James, who was just James.

The pasta was just as he’d remembered it. It was a little reminder of Val. Like having her there with them. He was happy, happier than he’d been in a very long time. He set down his fork and reached for James’s hand, clasping it gently. James looked at him, the oddest expression on his face. The two of them had gone through years of their lives missing exactly this, these simple, ordinary things. He imagined James as a child, lonely and in pain. He imagined him in seminary, confused, filled with guilt. James hadn’t had what everyone else had had: a family who loved him, people he could trust. But he could have them now. Lewis couldn’t stop time passing. He couldn’t stop life changing. But he’d give James family dinners, Sunday lie-ins, kisses, grandchildren, spoilt cats, after-work pints, morning coffee, friendship, love, kitchen disasters, and every possible ordinary thing he could.

_the end_


End file.
